


Birthday Girl

by filthybonnet



Category: Hannibal (2001), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types, Hannibal Lecter Tetralogy - Thomas Harris, The Silence of the Lambs (1991)
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Spanking, Biting, Edgeplay, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Hair-pulling, Knifeplay, Rope Bondage, Sexual Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-21 23:43:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6062578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/filthybonnet/pseuds/filthybonnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarice Starling wakes up on the morning of her 40th birthday hoping Hannibal Lecter has something grand planned for her. While not exactly grand or completely as planned, Hannibal delivers. Set after the novel "Hannibal."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Birthday Morning

All December babies want is their birthday to be acknowledged as a separate holiday. To receive a gift that doesn’t say “Happy birthday and Merry Christmas.” That wasn’t the case for Clarice Starling. At the orphanage such gifts would have been a luxury. During winter break in college, Clarice stayed in the dorms not having a family to go home to and therefore had no one to celebrate with. Things got better as she got older when Ardelia Mapp entered her life and always made sure Clarice had a nice birthday dinner because she showed love with food. And then there was Hannibal Lecter. His first gift, an interrupted attempt to leave a bottle of Chateau d’Yquem in her car was only the tip of the iceberg. Every year he made a huge deal out of her birthday, lovely gifts of beautiful clothes and jewelry, a fancy dinner he’d spend time cooking and presenting to perfection or a vacation. He wanted to give her the world.

However it had been a bit much for Clarice and just once she wished he could be like those garish people who wrote Merry Christmas and Happy birthday on the same gift. She loved Hannibal dearly but did she really need another necklace?

But when she woke up the in the late morning of her 40th birthday, those thoughts were fading from Clarice’s mind. _Forty is a big milestone,_ she thought. _Hannibal’s going to make a huge deal of this!_ She turned expecting to see The Doctor’s side of the bed empty, he already up making her a savory birthday brunch. Her heart sank slightly when she saw him still in bed, facing her asleep. Clarice rubbed her eyes. _Maybe we can make brunch together, I can eat the raw waffle batter to tease him._

“Hanni, wake up,” she ran her fingers through his hair.

He did not stir. Part of her was happy, over the years his nightmares were fewer and fewer and he’d become quite the sound sleeper. The other part wanted him awake; it was her birthday after all.

“Han…ni…bal,” Clarice leaned over his body and whispered in his ear. Her hair tickled his nose and eyes rousing him more than his name.

Doctor Lecter opened his eyes and slowly sat up, causing Clarice to fall across his lap. “Good Morning, Clarice.” 

She turned her body so she was looking up at him, twisting herself in the covers, “Good you’re awake. I’m hungry.”

“You know where the kitchen is.”

She reached up and took his chin between her thumb and index finger. _Not a single mention of my birthday this isn’t like him. I guess I should have been careful with what I wished for when I thought I wanted him to stop making such a big deal of my birthday._ “I’m really in the mood for your Belgian Waffles, Hannibal. You know I always fuck up the batter somehow.”

He looked down at her, his maroon eyes firm, “Well then maybe it’s time you learned to make the batter correctly, Clarice.”

She frowned. “I was kind of hoping we could make it together, you know for…” she trailed off.

“For what?”

Clarice huffed as she removed her hand from his chin and situated herself back on her side of the bed, facing away from him. “You know what, never mind!” She wrapped her arms around her pillow.

“So is your plan to stay in bed and sulk now?” Hannibal tossed the covers off of him and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He stretched his arms over his head and then each one behind his back. He flexed his ankles before rolling them. The Doctor was showing his age and could no longer just spring out of bed. He slipped his black house slippers on and grabbed his black house robe out of chair on his side of the room.“I am going to go downstairs and make some coffee,” Dr. Lecter put his black robe on and tied it around his waist. “Do you want me to pour you a cup so it’s ready when you’re done sulking?”

“Yes, please.”

“I do hope it is soon, Clarice. This behavior isn’t like you and it’s not becoming on a forty year old woman.”

Clarice perked up. _He just said forty year old woman! He acknowledged my age!_ However she waited to get out of bed until she no longer heard the flop of his slippers on the marble stairs. She adjusted the straps of her silk lilac nightgown before throwing on her robe and house slippers. _Oh Hannibal Lecter how could I have doubted you? Why do you have waiting for me downstairs? Slow down, Starling he wants to see you giddily surrender to his game. Don’t give in so easily._


	2. Birthday Brunch

Clarice sat down on the side of the bed to waste a few more minutes She looked down at her left hand and studied her solitary diamond engagement ring and solid gold band wedding ring. Hannibal also wore a gold band on his left ring finger. Part of their public disguise, their aliases were husband and wife to compensate for the fact that they legally never could be. Not that they needed to be, they were more committed and in love than most married couples. She got up and walked over to her vanity. As Clarice brushed out her bed head she couldn’t help but study the changes on her face. She knew she looked good for forty, running away and leaving the stress of the FBI prevented any more early aging. Creams from her dermatologist and a relaxing lifestyle for a couple on the lam did the rest. 

Starling headed down the stairs calmly, smiling as she noted he had plugged in the lights on the Christmas tree. They were all white as Hannibal considered multicolored bulbs tacky. As she reached the couch in the living room she heard the distinctive pop of a champagne cork coming from the kitchen. _Hannibal Lecter, there’s no champagne involved in coffee._ She picked up her pace and then paused for a second in the dining room only to be slightly disappointed. There were no place settings or food. Clarice however continued into the kitchen and at one look at the island she gasped. 

On it was a large vase filled with red roses and in front of it their finest white china created place settings for two. Steam swirled above two cups of coffee, containers of creamer and sugar between them. The Doctor was turned away from her but upon hearing her, he turned around, a bottle of champagne in one hand, a finished mimosa in the other. He smiled, showing her his little teeth before shaking his head, “Forty years old today and still wearing bunny slippers?”

“There is nothing wrong with bunny slippers,” she crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You don’t have a foot fetish so I’m not denying you anything.”

Hannibal chuckled as he handed her the champagne glass before returning his attention the counter. He poured champagne into a second glass of orange juice, “I know my making extravagant occasions out of your birthdays has been tiring to you.” He sat the bottle down, grabbed the glass and turned to face her again, “But I could not completely ignore it nor would you be happy if I completely ignored it. Happy birthday, Clarice.” Dr. Lecter raised his champagne glass and clanked it against hers. 

She smiled at him coyly before taking a drink of her mimosa. He took a sip of his before sitting it down next to the bottle, “Good. Now if you want to go ahead and take a seat I will go ahead and get the food out.” He moved the vase of roses to a corner of the island.

“Out? You mean it’s ready? How can it be ready?”

Hannibal walked over to the oven and put on the oven mitts, “I got up a few hours ago and made the waffles.” He opened the oven door and removed a platter of Belgian Waffles, “I abhor keeping food warm but it had to suffice in order to surprise you for your birthday.”

“Oh my God, Hannibal,” She sat down on the stool as he sat the plate in front of the place settings Clarice watched as he then made a trip back to the oven and pulled out a plate of sausage and sat that down. Hannibal’s next trip was to the fridge and brought a bowl of berries over and sat next to the waffles. 

Clarice put her elbows on the kitchen island and held her chin. She looked at Hannibal, stars in her eyes, “So you got up and did all this and then came back to bed?”

“I had to, Clarice,” The Doctor grabbed his mimosa and sat down next to her. “You had to wake up and find me still in bed. You had to be disappointed that I wasn’t up catering to your birthday extravagance. You then had to blame yourself for complaining about my lavishing you with gifts in order for the surprise to work.”

Clarice bit her lip and pulled her robe tighter.

“That’s not going to help, love. I saw through you psychologically, not physically,” Hannibal picked up a waffle and gently sat it on her plate. 

“Knee jerk reaction,” she picked a blueberry from the fruit bowl and flicked it at him. 

Hannibal watched as it hit him in the chest before bouncing onto the floor. He couldn’t help but smirk. She then grabbed a handful of fruit and topped her waffle with it. Hannibal grabbed a waffle and followed her lead but he also added sausage to his plate. He watched as Clarice took her first bite, her eyes closed and a smile spread across her face as she chewed and swallowed the sweet and fluffy concoction. Satisfied she was pleased he cut into his waffle and began to eat. They sat in silence for a bit, the only noise being clacking utensils against the plate. 

Clarice took a sip of her coffee and then spoke, “I must confess even after being in the Southern Hemisphere several years I’m still not completely used to December being in the summer.”

“Ah yes, Westernized time constructs that limit one’s world view,” The Doctor took a drink of his Mimosa. 

She rolled her eyes as she leaned against the island, “Please, you’re from Landed Gentry Old World Europe. You, sir are as Westernized as they come.”

Dr. Lecter could hear slight tease in her inflection but decided to play it cruel as he turned to face her, “You of all people, My Little Starling knows one does not control their family lineage. One can change from a well-polished rube to a challenging sophisticated lady just as someone born of Gentry can see strife that system caused the world and reject it.”

Clarice put on a pout as she lifted a strawberry off her waffle and tossed it at Hannibal’s face. It hit his nose and then fell to the floor not too far from the blueberry. She then giggled. Hannibal sighed as he stood, collecting their plates.

“Hey, I’m still eating that, it’s my birthday brunch!” Starling exclaimed.

“No you’re not. You’re throwing berries at me,” Dr. Lecter sat them on the counter near the sink. 

“Jesus Christ, Hannibal. When did you turn into such a grumpy old man? The man I fell in love with loved life, all its decedent pleasures, was grateful to find his equal so he could share all the small..."

“And he still is,” Hannibal turned around and one at a time threw a handful of berries at her.

“Ah!” She exclaimed laughing, throwing her arms up as berries bounced off her arms and face. Once he was out of ammo, Clarice grabbed a large handful of berries out of the bowl and threw all of them at him at once. Some hit The Doctor’s chest, others landed on the floors, some echoed in the sink as they bounced. 

“So that’s how you want to play it?” Hannibal walked up behind her and lifted her off the stool, the bunnies on her feet kicking. 

“No, no, no!” Clarice laughed as he took her into a bridal carry. “Where are you taking me? We were still eating brunch.” 

Hannibal smirked at her, “I believe there is a birthday tradition that calls for a celebratory spanking that matches the number of years a person turns. Convenient for all that ruckus in the kitchen.”


	3. Birthday Bondage

“No, no, Hannibal,” Clarice started to wiggle. “We’ve never done this before. And I’m a forty year old woman, not some little girl that needs to be punished for having fun with her husband.”

“Forty you say?” Dr. Lecter reached the living room and sat down on the couch turning Starling over in his lap.

Clarice pushed her hair out of her face and turned to look up at The Doctor. His maroon eyes devoured her whole. “Spanking has never been your thing, Dr. Lecter. It’s too…what’s the word…banal; a hang up on the need from punishment from authority figures. Besides you already have your pedestrian hang up and you could not allow yourself more than one of those.” 

In response Clarice saw Hannibal’s hand go up in the air and come down, fast on her behind. The smack was loud and echoed through the room. The warmth from where his hand hit spread over the area.

“One,” he looked down at Clarice his eyebrow arched, a smirk still on his face. He then continued in a steady rhythm though not as hard as the first, “Two, three, four five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.”

Clarice closed her eyes, the sensation was something new. _The slap and warmth are titillating I can see why people like this._

Hannibal broke up her thoughts, “And Clarice, mine is not a pedestrian hang up, it is a fetish at this point. You originally offered it to me and you do not seem to mind.”

She took his hand facing her into hers and smiled sweetly at him, “You say tomato, I say tomaato.”

His hand was on her ass again this time the spanks were in quick succession stings, “eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen eighteen, nineteen, twenty.”

She cried out, too many stings at once was not as enjoyable. However Hannibal caressed her behind softly through her clothes. As he did she could feel his arousal grow beneath her. She brought his hand up to her mouth and kissed it, “I’d say somebody is enjoying this. Tell me Hannibal Lecter did your mother also use corporal punishment on you and you’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to unleash it on me.” 

“Oh Clarice, it’s still morning and you’re already quite the spitfire today,” Hannibal’s tone was mix between chiding and teasing. 

Clarice turned in his lap so her backside was no longer facing him, her birthday spanking not complete. _Does this mean I’m twenty again?_ “It’s my birthday I can be whatever the Hell I want.”

The Doctor wrapped his arms around her and stood back up, “You’re of course assuming I have nothing else planned for you.” 

He carried her up the marble stair case as she wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his chest, “I knew you couldn’t resist planning something for me.”

Once back in their bedroom, Hannibal tossed Clarice down onto their bed. She looked up at him slightly surprised. “You were tired of the grand gestures for your birthday so this year I decided on something different. A small brunch and something you’ve already touch upon Agent Starling; to be pedestrian as possible.” He untied her robe and removed it, throwing it to the other side of the bed. "There was never a sexual aspect to my crimes; that wasn’t my prerogative. And you were never my victim.” Hannibal turned to the night stand and opened the top drawer. When The Doctor turned around from the nightstand he possessed rope, “But what if any slight turn of events left me as regular as those boring patients as I treated and as basic as those other killers profiled? And instead of a plan to help the object of my affection, who was free to leave whenever she wanted, what if I just wanted to possess it?” His hands were on her wrists forcefully, tying them to iron bars that made up their headboard. 

Clarice’s breathing was now shallow and fast. She pulled against ropes, he had tied the knots quick but they were sturdy. However she stopped the moment she heard a click. She turned and looked at Dr. Lecter; he had flicked open one of his Harpys. Her eyes widened and goosebumps covered her arms. Still she tried to not let the mix of fear and excitement show in her voice, “What are you going to do, Doctor stab me? Stab me with your surrogate dick? All this to make up for the fact that you can’t get it up like a real man and have never been able to please a woman sexually. All this because you can’t get off without something else to aid in the penetrating, something that is bigger, something that a woman can feel.” 

Hannibal’s maroon eyes narrowed. _Impressive, Clarice; an impressive on the fly profile for my generic killer roleplay creation. Or so I hope all of it is and that you haven’t been lying to me all these years about my sexual prowess._

He climbed over Clarice on all fours, the Harpy still in his hand, “Who said I was going to stab you? I can see why Agent Crawford never let you into the BAU. You’re no good at profiling without help from a greater mind.” He sat up on his knees, straddling Clarice’s legs and with his free hand he pulled the neckline of her nightgown away from her. He plunged the blade into the lilac silk, the tip resting against her skin between her breasts. All movement from Clarice ceased including breathing as she held her breath. Hannibal lifted the blade slightly and ran it down the length of the gown slicing it in two. It fluttered down and to the sides of her body exposing a pair of black lace panties that made her skin look extra pale. 

Dr. Lecter tilted his head to the side and watched as Clarice’s breasts rose and fell fast with each breath she took; her nipples painfully tight, begging to be touched. He smiled slightly as his gaze moved to the black lace panties. He lowered two of his fingers from his free hand to them and ran the tips over them. She shivered.

“My, my Clarice. It looks like my well-polished rube has become quite the stylish lady; silk negligee, high quality lace panties. These aren’t department store buys; these are from a specialty boutique. I’d say something about the bunny slippers but they seem like sort of inside joke. Who’s the lucky man, Clarice? I must admit I’m jealous, I thought we had a connection.”

“We do, Doctor.”

Hannibal pushed her legs out from under him and the open. She did not resist. 

“You’re very complaisant, Clarice. I was not expecting this from such a strong and smart woman.” 

“I am not really in a position to fight am I, Doctor?”

Dr. Lecter leaned over positioning his head between her legs. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and held it for a few seconds. Clarice wrapped her fingers around the bars; there was no hiding her physical responses from him and his heightened senses. 

He lifted his head as he exhaled, a large smile exposing all his little teeth, “No, no you are not. Your musk is strong, you must be real aroused. Am I that lucky man? How long have you been attracted to me, Clarice? After that first visit when I figured out you hated boring, tedious sex with men who didn’t challenge you intellectually? Did you go back to your dorm room at the academy and wait till your roommate was asleep and masturbate thinking about me? The mad inmate twice your age and what he would do to you if only he was free? Or was it after I gave you my towel?”

Clarice bit her lip. She had never really told Hannibal the exact moment she found herself thinking about him like a school girl crush; partly because she could never pin point the exact moment herself. “What about you, Doctor?” She asked. “Chilton said it had been years since you’d seen a woman and that I was exactly your type. How blasé that you fixated on the first pretty face they threw your way. I guess even great doctors can be superficial.” 

Hannibal lifted the panties up and in two quick cuts with the Harpy starting from each leg hole to the waistline they were loose. He snatched them off her discarding them to the floor; the nightgown still remained spread opened and exposed just as she was. He brushed his finger up and down her sex feeling her warmth and wetness. She whimpered. “Agent Starling, you sure don’t seem to mind that I fixated on that first pretty face. Or at least your body doesn’t mind.” The Doctor swirled his finger around her clit, causing Clarice to tilt her head back and moan. He then pulled his finger away and licked it. “Ahh…to finally taste you.”

He directed the blade of the Harpy so the point barely touched her skin at the mound of her manicured pubic hair. He dragged it up the middle of her belly, the blade barely gracing her skin.

Clarice whimpered her stomach trembling, “You said you weren’t going to stab me.” 

When the blade reached between her breasts he lifted it up, turned it on its side and pressed the cold blade against her left nipple. Starling gasped in surprise. “You’re right, I’m not. I don’t need a phallic extension when it comes to fucking.” He stood up and placed the Harpy on the nightstand. He dropped his robe to the floor, unbuttoned his plum satin pajama top and dropped it on top of the robe. “As you probably noticed, I’m already hard.” He dropped his matching pajama bottoms along with his underwear to the floor before stepping out of his house slippers.

Clarice turned to look and yes he was hard, actually fully erect. Hannibal was a small, lithe man but here he was perfectly average. _This little game is proving rather stimulating for the both of us._ She smiled then tried to hide it by biting her lip. 

“Was that a smile, Agent Starling? See, you’ll be able to feel it, just as you feel this.” He bent over cupping his mouth over the areola of her right breast and bit down.

Clarice closed her eyes and instinctively cried out and arched her back, pulling against the rope. The powerful vice grip of his teeth caused a stinging pinch on this sensitive area. His action dug up an old buried thought; these were same teeth that once tore out a nurse’s tongue and disfigured a police officer. He let go of her breast slowly, it jiggling side to side as he straightened himself back up. 

“That’ll leave a nice dental impression. And now for a more compromising position.” In one swift move he spun Clarice, the ropes twisting as her arms turned so she was on her knees facing down. “And to remove the negligee.” He grabbed the Harpy again and in two swift motions he cut the straps before sitting it back down. 

Clarice felt the silk caress her body as he pulled it away. She looked at her right breast and observed it was swollen where he bit, a perfect dental indentation of his teeth around her areola. _He sure is acting the part of typical killer. He nibbles and sucks but never anything like this._ She felt the bed shift as he climbed on behind her, she then gasped as his fingers were between her legs once again caressing her clit.

“Tell me, Agent Starling how many of your co-workers have read those tabloids about us and assumed they were true? How many have whispered in the hallway about you knowing where I was, aiding in my escape, meeting up with me for midnight rendezvous?” He squeezed and rolled her clit harder, “Now they’ll know you have because with this much vaginal fluid, Clarice they only conclusion they will be able to come to is consensual sex.” Sensing she was on the edge of release he let go, grabbing her behind with one hand and his hard cock with the other. He guided himself into her, and quickly betrayed himself as he let out a sign of soft pleasure. 

Clarice smiled to herself. No matter how much they were turned on by the rough sex they would engage in, that soft sigh was _her_ Hannibal and she let it slip too. “Oh Hannibal,” she moaned.

He pushed in and out of her, holding onto her waist to aid in allowing him to go faster when he felt the need. Clarice wrapped her hands around the headboard bar tight till her knuckles were white; her eyes closed her head tilted up, a constant stream of pants and screams of pleasure escaping her mouth. She pushed her body back into his, in sync with his thrusts. “Harder, harder,” she whimpered

The Doctor stopped mid thrust, “Did you just say harder?” He removed one hand from her behind, gathered her hair into his hand and yanked pulling Clarice’s head back further. She whimpered as she leaned back into him. “Did Special Agent Starling just ask me to fuck her harder? Does the FBI know what kind of sexual deviant they have working within their walls?”

“It’s not hard when it’s an organization founded by one,” Starling said breathless. “Now can you fuck me harder or not, old man?”

Still holding onto her hair, he thrust into her deep and hard. After a few seconds he let go of her hair, returning his hands to her waist for aid in going faster. Clarice instantly hung her head, relief from the pressure on her scalp all her focus returning on the pleasure building between her legs; pleasure about to reach its climax. She felt herself tighten around Hannibal’s dick and gasped taking in air to hold her breath when she heard Hannibal groan and stop thrusting. _He never cums first, he is always the gentleman and pulls himself back from the edge allowing me to cum first so he can cum while mine finishes rolling over me._ He did resume thrusting, just enough for the orgasmic wave to come over Clarice. She let out her breath, panting, “Oh my God, Oh my God!” 

The moment she did, she felt Hannibal withdrawal and spin her back round to face him. She let go of the bar as the rope twirled yet again. He observed her; her face flushed and her breathing fast from orgasm, her right breast swollen from his bite mark, she fumbled to straighten out her legs from the quick change of position and as she did a mixture of their fluids seeped out of her onto the sheets. His breathing was still rapid but he crawled over her so they were face to face.

“I never expected fucking you to be that amazing,” The Doctor whispered in her ear. “Usually my victims don’t get a choice but you, Clarice you are worthy. So tell me, which organ of yours shall I prepare and eat, hmm? What part of you do you think will be the most delectable for me?” 

Since her hands were not free, she pushed one of her feet in and caressed his ankle with the bunny slipper, the only clothing still on her person. She looked deep in his red eyes, “I don’t know if it’ll be the most delectable, but please eat my heart, Hannibal. It already belongs to you.”

Hannibal’s eyes widen and his mouth went slightly agape. She had just trumped the role playing session. He reached over to the night stand, grabbed the Harpy and cut the ropes from the bedpost. Clarice brought her arms down and Hannibal frantically removed the ropes. As soon as he did, he leaned in and kissed her passionately. He then wrapped his arms around her and rolling so they were on their sides facing each other. Dr. Lecter caressed the curves of her body as he watched her breathing return to normal. He cupped her face and kissed her forehead, “Happy birthday, Clarice.”

Clarice ran her fingers down Hannibal’s cheek a large smile on her face, “Oh my God, Hannibal that was intense; amazing but intense. And you said you weren’t going to do any grand gestures for my birthday this year.”

“Who said that was grand?” He brushed some stray hair out of her face before running his fingers through it. 

"I did," She leaned in and kissed him lightly. She ran her fingers through his hair, "You failed at role playing a banal killer because you were just too extraordinary of one in reality. But you know how to physically and mentally fuck a girl to satiation." 

Hannibal kissed her forehead again and then held her tight in silence for several minutes. Clarice finally pulled out of his embrace, "I need to pee and I'm getting cold." She found her robe on the bed, the only piece of clothing not destroyed in their session and wrapped it around her body. As she walked towards the bathroom Hannibal called out her name. She turned around, "Yes."

He sat up on the bed, "Please clean and dress the bite mark I left. I can tell it's already swollen. And when you're done Clarice, join me in the kitchen. I'm going to make a fresh batch of Belgian Waffles." He then smirked, "But this time I'm putting out butter and syrup."

**Author's Note:**

> This story started out as pure fluff. However being me I was like, "This needs smut, some happy smut to tie up the end." As I continued to write towards the happy smut, I continued to still be me and veered completely off track and into BDSM depravity smut land. I guess this was meant to happen because when it comes to fanfic I prefer smut over fluff. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed the ride of this story.


End file.
